Brad Pitt in The Assassination
of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

Andrew Dominik'sThe Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward
Robert Ford
Opens September 21, 2007

Reviewed by Alejandra
Serret

The Assassination
of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford,
written and directed by Andrew Dominik, tells
the story of how the notorious outlaw’s
life ended. Based on Ron Hansen’s novel
of the same title, Dominik pays homage to classic
westerns through slow, rhythmic story telling,
voice-over narration, and the occasional distorted
shot—rounded at the edges giving the illusion
of looking through a magnifying glass. New Zealand
born Dominik approaches his second feature length
film (the first is 2000’s Chopper)
with Terrence Malick-like grace. He gives the
film time to unfold, anchoring the characters
in a substantial storyline.

Like Malick, Dominik took the risk of losing viewers
along the way, but his lyrical cinematography
is captivating. At times the voice-over seems
unnecessary — viewers can see that Jesse
James is sitting at the kitchen table flipping
a deck of cards over absentmindedly. The narration
that accompanies the scene initially feels like
over kill. Yet as the scene progresses the soothing
tone and beautiful prose matches the fluidity
of the action, creating a harmonic pairing.

The film opens with the James gang executing their
last big heist—a train robbery in September
of 1881 — a mismatched bunch looking for
a last score. Robert Ford, played skillfully by
Casey Affleck, is among them. A ninteeen-year-old,
fidgety, eager-to-please Ford, stays on with Jesse
James, after the robbery. Slowly, his idolatry
is exposed: small magazines of the original James
crew kept beneath his bed, a list of unique commonalities
he shares with Jesse (of which he can recite with
too much ease), and his longing to be accepted.
Jesse James, then thirty-four years old, appears
accustomed to such flattery, but maintains a sense
of unease, which grows into paranoia.

Dominik follows various members of the James gang
as they go their separate ways. The lazy-like
unraveling of the subplots pays off as they merge
to strengthen the main current that holds it all
together: Jesse James’ death, his incredible
fame.

The all-star cast allows The Assassination
of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
to flourish: Brad Pitt’s subtle craziness
and paranoia, Casey Affleck’s quiet obsession,
Sam Rockwell’s constant fear and guilt.
Like the film’s cadence, the actors take
their time, allowing themselves to fully embody
the characters.
The film ends with James’ death and the
celebrity status he is raised to: his body kept
on ice for weeks to accommodate thousands of visitors,
the photograph of his corpse that sold for two
dollars a piece, and the play of his death which
filled the theater for weeks. Robert Ford played
himself, killing James an estimated 800 times.
While James had been a wanted man, Ford began
his own demise by killing his idol. Notorious,
not as a gunslinger or American Outlaw, but as
a coward, Ford was later killed to right what
many felt, was a wrong.

Dominik creates a truly breathtaking film: filled
with picturesque scenes and gorgeous acting. The
Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert
Ford savors the story of an American legend,
divulging of it with grace and ease.

Ethan Hawke and Philip
Seymour Hoffman in Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead

Sidney Lumet is
a little guy. He’s short, slight in frame,
has fury eyebrows, and small hands. A quick comparison
to Scorsese seems too easy and yet, like the better-known,
younger director, Lumet is a genius behind the
camera. At eighty-four years old his career has
burgeoned with films like Dog Day Afternoon,
The Wiz and Serpico, working
with greats at their peak—Pacino, Brando,
Hoffman, as in Philip Seymour (although this one
is up for discussion). Lumet is as they say, a
legend.

At it again, decades
after his most noted work, Lumet brings us Before
the Devil Knows You’re Dead: a film
best described as a Greek tragedy of a dysfunctional
family unable to pull themselves from their destructive
path. The tragic characters in turmoil: the father
who is too hard on his eldest son, the younger
brother who strives for his elder brother’s
attention, the much loved mother/martyr, jealousy,
adultery, and betrayal. Lumet tells their story
in a non-linear way exposing the family’s
unraveling in the opening scene—a robbery
gone horribly wrong. (Actually, the film begins
with a provocative sex scene between Andy (Hoffman)
and his wife Gina, played by Marisa Tomei.)

Philip Seymour
Hoffman plays Andy, a character that is manipulative
and scheming. Ethan Hawke plays the younger, less
intelligent brother. Both Hawke and Lumet argue
that the more obvious casting choice would have
been the reversal—Hawke as the calculating
older brother and Hoffman as the self-loathing,
self-deprecating Hank. This option, however, allowed
them both to play with more challenging, less-expectant
character traits. Hawke found it hardest to play
such a moral-lacking, weak character, but took
the role for its attachment to Lumet—an
opportunity he thanks Hoffman’s success
for.

The tangled plot
unwinds in a non-linear way divulging portions
of itself at a time. From the beginning, viewers
know that partners-in-crime Andy and Hank plan
the nearly perfect crime: the robbery of a local
mom and pop jewelry store. The catch is that it
is their mother and father’s store, one
they are intimate with. Their seemingly flawless
plan goes haywire, resulting in their mother’s
death. Without the matriarch at their center,
the family crumbles. The males are unable to lay
their expectations to rest—Charles, the
patriarch of the family, played by Albert Finney
is hardest on Andy. Andy vies for his father’s
affection and Hank fights for Andy’s. It’s
the never-ending cycle that stays unresolved.

The caliber
of acting speaks volumes of this film, which is
at once surprising and expected. Lumet stays true
to his nature and does not disappoint. His experience
has kept him sharp, allowing for precise and beautiful
story telling in Before the Devil Knows You’re
Dead.

Julian Schnabel's The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
French with English Subtitles
Opens November 30, 2007

Julian Schnabel
(Basquait, Before Night Falls)
has made a gorgeous, sensual feast of a film about
the sad story of Jean Dominique Bauby, the editor
of Elle France, who at the young age of forty-three
suffered a stroke that left him in "locked-in"
condition. Unable to move any part of his body
except his left eye, Bauby (played by Mathieu
Amalric), wrote a book (also titled The Diving
Bell and the Butterfly) about his experience.

Working from a
script by Ronald Harwood (The Pianist,
Love in the Time of Cholera, Oliver
Twist) the first half of the film is told
through the camera-eye of Bauby's left eye. As
the story opens, we as Bauby's eye, awake to see
kindly worried people hovering over our bed telling
us that we have had a stroke and now that we are
awake we should be just fine. Then one of the
doctors asks Bauby to say his name, he does and
no one hears him except us, the film audience.

Bauby then narrates
his own movie, telling us the story of his old
and new life. Bauby's affliction has not made
him into a saint. He is instead the same sardonic
hedonist that he was before the accident.

The story follows
Bauby's work with his gorgeous therapists, Henriette
(played by Marie-Josée Croze) and Marie
(Schnabel's wife Olatz Lopez Garmendia). Henriette
devises a method by which Bauby can communicate
with the world - a chart with the letters of the
French alphabet arranged in most-used order. She
painstakingly goes through the alphabet and Bauby
blinks when she reaches a letter that he wishes
to use. Bauby signals that he would like to write
the book that he had contracted to write before
the accident and the therapist make arrangements
with his publisher to have yet another beautiful
woman take dictation, Claude (played by Marie
Anne Consigny).

This film is never
maudlin; it is beautifully shot by Janusz Kaminski,
also Steven Spielberg's cinematographer. We leave
the viewpoint of Bauby's eye and see the world
around him. The hospital room is a green marvel
and the hospital itself is located by the sea;
the entire setting is lovely. And to paraphrase
Dr. Seuss, oh the things Bauby saw. Bauby receives
visitors, the gorgeous mother of his three children,
Celine (played by Emmanuelle Seigner). We see
them on the beach with Celine's skirt being lifted
by the wind. His equally gorgeous children visit
and play in the sand. And Bauby's beautiful view
of the world is not restricted to his present
"diving bell." We follow the butterfly
of his imagination as he remembers his past and
takes flights of fancy into the future. And we
follow him as he drives former girlfriend to Lourdes,
her hair beautifully blowing in the wind. Bauby
was a lustful man and the film is permeated with
Bauby's (and Schnabel's) lust for life.

Bell is
one of the best films I have seen this year and
that is quite a complement with films like Gone
Baby Gone and Before the Devil Knows
You're Dead for competition. Schnabel won
the prize for Best Director at the Cannes Film
Festival for Bell and this film will
surely be an Oscar contender for Schnabel, Harwood,
Kiminski and the talented (and gorgeous) cast.

Abby Cornish, Cate Blanchett
and Clive Owen

Shekhar Kapur’sElizabeth: The Golden Age
Opens Friday, October 12, 2007

Reviewed by Frank
J. Avella

All the majesty,
the pomp, the grandeur, the visual splendor and
the tour de force acting that made 1998’s
Elizabeth so incredibly riveting can once
again be enjoyed in Elizabeth: The Golden
Age. And while it is not the gem the original
was; it is not the disappointment many assumed
it would be.

This sequel (in
a planned trilogy) is an intense thrill ride that
plays a bit too fast and loose with history but
presents a few intriguing notions that go against
the grain of conventional portrayals of the Virgin
Queen.

One is her alleged
love of Sir Walter Raleigh (a roughish and charming
Clive Owen). Not to give too much away, but this
love story takes a bit of a different turn than
most others in its portrayal of the Queen Bee
and her seafaring suitor.

A second (and wonderfully
surprising) twist is how the film views Mary,
Queen of Scots (Samantha Morton). Almost always
seen as a victim, a martyr, here she is actually
depicted as a conniving and ambitious woman who
craves the throne more than she cares about her
Catholicism.

At the heart of
this film is an attempt to truly explore the woman
and her fears, not just the Queen and her triumphs.

It’s 1585
and all is not well in Britain. Having ruled for
over three decades, the Queen must now deal with
the threat of the Inquisition via Catholic Spain
as well as the threat to her throne, by way of
Mary Stuart. In addition, she is manipulated into
searching for a husband that can provide her with
a proper heir. Dealing with her own aging and
the ominous threat against her country, Elizabeth
preps for the greatest battles of her life.

The visual and
aural bombast in Elizabeth: The Golden Age
is more than a tad overdone, and the script (by
William Nicholson and Michael Hirst, who wrote
the first one) isn’t as crisp and fine-tuned
as the original but Cate Blanchett’s towering
performance more than makes up for these missteps.

In a role played
by Glenda Jackson, Helen Mirren and Bette Davis,
just to name a few of the diva-licious dames who
have taken Elizabeth I on, Cate Blanchett manages
to reach deep within and expose her demons. Don’t
get me wrong, when she needs to she chews the
scenery like she is expected to, but in the quieter
moments lie the key to her exploration--specifically
early on in scenes with her pet lady-in-waiting,
Bess (a delightful Abbie Cornish). There are glimmers
of a sexual attraction, jealousy, adoration and
genuine love that seep through her tough exterior.
Bravo Blanchett for her amazing gifts. Another
nomination deservedly beckons.

The score by Craig
Armstrong and AR Rahman is a force unto itself.
The costumes are grand. The art direction is sumptuous.
The editing is dazzlingly frenetic. And the camera-work
is dizzyingly mesmerizing. It’s all over-the-top,
but completely right for this film and the recreation
of the famous defeat of the Spanish Armada is
a triumph of cinema-wizardry.

Prior to this battle,
Elizabeth is told that she must flee her home
since the Spanish threat is imminent. Instead,
she dawns her body armor, saddles her stallion
and rides out to meet her soldiers. There she
delivers a rousing speech that gives the film
its heart and soul. It’s a glorious moment.
A glorious performance. A fine film.

Casey Affleck, Morgan
Freeman and Michelle Monaghan

Ben Affleck'sGone Baby Gone
Opens everywhere Friday, October 19, 2007

Reviewed by Alejandra
Serret

When I hear Ben
Affleck’s name associated with a project
I can't help but wonder if the moment has arrived
in which he can assert himself as a Hollywood
powerhouse and detach himself from career blunders
like Gigli, Jersey Girl and
Paycheck. His recent work as George Reeves
in Hollywoodland (while it bombed at
the box office) brought him close, not only displaying
true talent but a desire to challenge himself
artistically. After spending the majority of his
career in front of the camera, he is most impressive
behind, with his directorial debut, Gone Baby
Gone. It’s been 10 years since Ben
Affleck wowed audiences with Good Will Hunting,
which he co-wrote and acted in, winning an Oscar.
He has again proved his worthiness with his adaptation
of Dennis Lehane’s novel Gone Baby Gone,
like his other work (i.e. Mystic River),
it explores Boston’s grimmer side.

South Boston natives/private
investigators/lovers Patrick Kenzie (Casey Affleck)
and Angie Genarro (Michelle Monaghan) work to
uncover the mystery surrounding the disappearance
of four-year-old Amanda McCready. Familiar with
the streets and people of Dorchester, the partners
dive head first, investing themselves in finding
her. While the Boston Police Department may have
experience on their side, Kenzie and Genarro have
connections and understand the street mentality.
The chilling truth they unearth tells the story
of a neglected child and the community she lives
in—at once coming together and coming apart.

Ben Affleck is
able to execute a genuine tone and cadence in
Gone Baby Gone through his dedication
to authenticity—from the actors to the setting
and technique. The film begins with deliberate,
almost poetic shots of Dorchester. Affleck captured
the beauty of the ordinary, which became heightened
through a traumatic event. His younger brother
Casey Affleck, who has recently garnered positive
buzz with his portrayal of Robert Ford in The
Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert
Ford, delivered perfectly, owning his role
as Patrick Kenzie.

Casey Affleck’s
subtlety exposes a genuine talent allowing viewers
to become invested in Amanda’s plight and
the desire to see her home safely. While his performance
raises the film’s potential, it’s
the cast chemistry that makes it a true success.
Michelle Monaghan is believable and not overshadowed
by Morgan Freeman (police chief Jack Doyle) or
Ed Harris (police detective Remy Bressant). While
both veterans deliver as expected, it’s
in the more unexpected roles that the film shines.
Amy Ryan, who plays Helene McCready, and Jill
Quigg, as her best friend Dottie, capture the
jargon, accent, and attitude. Ben Affleck showcases
his attention to detail and his dedication to
accurately portraying a city in the ways that
it is both bad and good. He does Lehane justice
through his adaptation and vision of Gone
Baby Gone.

Penelope Cruz in The
Good Night

Jake Paltrow'sThe Good Night
Opens October 5, 2007

Reviewed by Alejandra
Serret

There are few storylines
not yet explored through film. It's the way they
are executed that sets them apart, makes them
worthwhile, intriguing. Jake Paltrow attempts
just this with The Good Night —
his directorial debut. While the Kauffmanesque
content aims high, it falls short, leaving too
many holes and collapsing the plot.

Martin Freeman
plays a fallen Rock Star named Gary who suffers
creatively, spinning him into depression. His
days of artistic freedom and celebrity have passed,
sinking him into self-deprecation, indifference,
and awkwardness. Gary's crumbling self-esteem
affects his relationship with long time, live-in
girlfriend, Dora, played by Gwyneth Paltrow. Annoyed
with Gary’s inability to let go of his Rock
Star expectations, Dora becomes indifferent. Late
night masturbation and robotic I love you’s
before turning out the lights and rolling over
for bed dictate their relationship.

The plot dives into interesting when Gary finds
happiness in his dreams. He meets dark beauty
Anna, played by Penelope Cruz, a woman with whom
he can be completely comfortable and confident.
With each night his dreams become more lucid thrusting
him into a fantastical world. With research and
meetings with lucid dream guru Mel, Danny DeVito,
Gary begins to live for sleep. His throbbing obsession
weighs heavily on his already failing relationship.
He doesn’t even notice when Dora leaves.

Things begin
to change when he meets real-life Anna, a famous
model. She is not the woman he has grown to know
through his dreams and his attempts to make her
so bring out her anger, waking him from his lucid
trance, making him miss Dora.

The moral
of the story? Things are always better in dreams?
People are not always who we expect? We should
appreciate the people we love while we have them?
While Jake Paltrow aims to convey this expected
outcome in a new way it isn’t believable.
Gary’s transformation—the lesson he
learns isn’t completely felt. So Anna may
not be the woman of his dreams but I can’t
believe that Dora is. Freeman and Gwyneth Paltrow
achieve a level of indifferent disgust in the
film’s beginning that is hard to shake by
the end. While the storyline experiences occasional
hiccups, the stellar acting nearly brings it together.
The Good Night, while a great attempt,
lacks in cohesiveness.

Cate Blanchett in
Todd Haynes’ I’m Not There Opens November 21, 2007

Reviewed by Frank J. Avella

In a season of
ambitious filmic endeavors, Todd Haynes’
I’m Not There, which is “inspired
by the life and work of Bob Dylan” stands
as one of the most ambitious, and as such, divisive
pics of 2007.

The one and seemingly
ONLY thing most folks agree on is Cate Blanchett’s
performance. Her Dylan is simply astonishing.
But more on her later.

I’m Not
There is mock-docu-pastiche of sorts, a cinema
mosaic of various incarnations that embody the
essence of the many different Dylans, through
the years, as the man reinvented himself—funneled
through the brilliant and inventive mind of Mr.
Haynes. The notion is that one can never truly
capture a person onscreen--their essence. You
can read all the books, articles, listen to all
the music--interview all the loved (and not so
loved) ones and even talk to the subject himself,
and still not really get a good idea who that
person is. And Dylan, the icon, is even more mysterious
than most.

In I’m
Not There, Haynes has impressively created
a host of persons who, together, may give some
representation of the enigmatic artist. It’s
a fascinating premise and he has, single-handedly,
reinvented the (oh, so stale) biopic. Does it
work? Well, now that depends. The film is not
a failure, nor is it a resounding success (to
this critic, anyway). Yet it’s very much
like my perception of Dylan, flawed but extraordinary
(at times).

I greatly admire
the film, but that isn’t the same as loving
it. Actually, I haven’t felt so perplexed
about my own reaction to a film in a very long
time.

The Blanchett sequence
borrows generously from Fellini, specifically
Otto e’ Mezza (8 1/2),
and in there might lay my chief problem with I’m
Not There. I adore Fellini. He’s one
of my favorite auteurs. Fellini (along with Bergman)
was able to concoct his own personal vision hatched
from his lunatic/genius head, put it onscreen
and, somehow, it was miraculously accessible--most
of the time. Haynes’ film is most definitely
personal, almost too personal—somewhat impossible
to penetrate. He has distilled his own Dylan from
all his research and all his love. So it feels
like it’s exclusively Haynes’ Dylan—and
not one we can embrace or even understand. Yet,
perhaps that is the point. Perhaps it’s
okay for this film to be a trip into the mind
of Haynes via Dylan (instead of vice versa). I’m
truly not certain. Perhaps after repeated viewings
I will come to totally embrace the pic…or
loathe it.

What does work,
works supremely well. Heath Ledger is quite powerful
and his scenes with Charlotte Gainsbourg are wonderful
to watch. And there are many sequences that astound
(specifically one that involves Allen Ginsberg
and Jesus Christ—I will say no more). The
Gere scenes are less enthralling and that has
less to do with the actor than with the fact that
those moments never meld with the rest of the
film.

But as soon as
Cate Blanchett blasts onto the screen as the freaky,
androgynous Dylan the movie takes off to tremendously
joyous heights. Blanchett has proven that there
isn’t much she can’t do. From Elizabeth
onward, she has shown her versatility and her
bravery in making choices. No one else in her
peer group (with the possible exception of Kate
Winslet) can come close to her remarkable body
of work these last ten years.

Her Jude isn’t
so much an impersonation—although she is
the closest to a real Dylan that we get (whatever
that means), it’s an exhilarating immersion
into Haynes’ most richly written ‘subject.’
Blanchett’s scenes are what one remembers
most after the credits roll and the lights come
up.

I love the film’s
theme of identity, certainly something that all
artists (all people probably) struggle with. Haynes
puts forth the notion that ultimate freedom is
escaping the pigeonholing and being able to reinvent
yourself as you go through different life cycles.
(Jane Fonda is a great example of an artist who
has metamorphosed more than most and has always
fascinated with her next incarnation.) And why
not? Isn’t that what a realized life should
be? Constantly searching for answers to that eternal
‘why am I here’ question?

I came to this
film as someone who appreciates Dylan--the power
of his music. I wouldn’t call myself a fan.
The film made me crave more. So I went right out
and picked up the four-hour Scorsese documentary
and I bought a few Dylan CDs. I am very happy
I did. If the film does the same for others, then
maybe we’ll all develop our own visions/notions
of Bob Dylan and who he is…who he needs
to be…to us--individually.

Robert Redford's Lions for Lambs
Opens Friday, November 9, 2007

Reviewed by Allison Ford

In the war
against terror, the biggest threat to our nation
is neither the enemy, nor our government leaders.
The biggest threat is our own complacency. Robert
Redford’s brilliant and electrifying new
film, Lions for Lambs, fairly explores
themes such as personal responsibility, the duties
of a free press, and idealism in education. It
is not an indictment of obstinate Republicans,
and it is not a sentimental plea for troop withdrawal.
It is a fair and ruthless debate of our position
in the war and how we got there, and a call to
arms for the millions of Americans who are outraged,
yet apathetic.

The parallel action
of Lions for Lambs takes place over the
course of one hour, as events unfold in Washington
DC, California, and Afghanistan. Tom Cruise plays
an ambitious Republican senator, dangling the
exclusive scoop on his new military strategy in
front of a TV journalist, played by Meryl Streep.
Redford plays a college professor, charged with
reigniting the idealism and passion of his most
promising student. Michael Pena and Derek Luke
play courageous young soldiers in Afghanistan,
embodying the human face of these two debates.

The film’s
central theme is the decision to do what is right,
rather than what is easy. Political ideologies
and motivations for the war are discussed and
debated brilliantly between Cruise and Streep.
She listens to the buzzwords and evasive platitudes
offered by Cruise, a hawkish Presidential hopeful
staking his political career on a suspicious new
military tactic. Cruise is as slick and slippery
as any DC spin doctor, rationalizing the human
cost of military action, and wearing blinders
to the possibility of error. He embodies all those
who choose righteousness over peace. They debate
not only the government’s missteps in miring
the country in war, but also the complicity of
the media, which has wholeheartedly perpetuated
the government’s idea of the facts, and
forced this distorted version of truth upon the
American people. At the end of the day, who is
truly responsible - the government for creating
the story, the media for selling it, or Americans
for buying?

Robert Redford,
as a political science professor at an unnamed
California university, debates human potential,
passion, and idealism with his disillusioned student,
played by Andrew Garfield. Redford bemoans the
indifference in the youth of today, who have become
jaded and disappointed with the politics of hypocrisy,
and Redford seeks to inspire Garfield to have
the courage to try to make a difference. As they
say, if you don’t stand for something, you’ll
fall for anything.

Two-thirds of the
film’s action takes place in offices –
despite the impassioned performances, they are
merely debating; having conversations. The film’s
interesting juxtaposition is the inaction of conversations
versus the immediacy of the story of the soldiers
fighting to survive. They play out a poorly-devised
military tactic, which was dreamed up by a politician
who has never seen combat. The American soldiers
featured are also former promising students of
Redford’s. They are the heroes of the movie;
two gifted inner-city kids who lay their lives
on the line for a nation full of citizens who
feel that “supporting the troops”
means a yellow ribbon sticker on their SUVs. The
film bluntly reminds us that even as the politicians
and pundits bicker and argue, there is a real
human cost to our inaction and poor decisions.

The characters
in the film are challenged to have courage –
to take a stand, to say No, to fight for what
it is that they believe. Meryl Streep finds the
courage to doubt and to question, and to reject
what the policymakers in DC want her to believe
and report. In his office, Tom Cruise asks, “How
many times are you people going to ask the same
questions?” Streep replies, “Until
we get the answers.” She represents a lone
voice of conscience in the news media; one dissenter,
unwilling to continue propagating the lies and
half-truths. The soldiers volunteer for battle,
to not sit and wait for others to solve the problems.
At the end of the film, Redford’s student
faces a choice, and stands on the precipice of
deciding between continuing in his blasé,
peaceful existence, and taking action to be a
force of change.

Redford’s
character laments at no other time in our history
“have such lions been led by such lambs.”
This film portrays the lack of real, courageous
leadership from those in power. It implies that
servicemen and idealists are the lions, courageous
and righteous, while the insulated, protected
government leaders are the lambs. However, the
deeper symbolism of the lamb is even more powerful.
The real metaphorical lambs of the story are the
common soldiers. They are led into battle by those
who should be protecting and shepherding them,
and the result is the slaughter and sacrifice
of our best and brightest. The soldiers in this
film are promising students, called into action
by their patriotism and then pushed into danger
by the smug self-righteousness of politicians
like Cruise, who are safely shielded from the
consequences of error.

Lions for
Lambs is a smart, stylish, and fearless film,
highlighted by superb performances and Redford’s
razor-sharp direction. His maverick take on American
politics is not an indictment of any one viewpoint.
The only condemnation is of cowardice. Most of
the scenes in the film are debates, and they are
ruthlessly engaging, because we have the opportunity
to watch our most masterful screen actors at work.
Cruise and Streep engage in a high-stakes game
of evasion that leaves the audience breathless,
even as the characters themselves barely raise
an eyebrow. Lions for Lambs is not merely
a war drama – the engagement of the audience
doesn’t happen through action and gunfire.

Ultimately,
our country’s fate depends on the actions
of all of us. We will not succeed or fail based
on a handful of lawmakers or journalists, and
it is impossible to lay all the blame for past
mistakes at the feet of one man or political party.
The film portrays the human element of conflict,
and reminds us of the tragic consequences of inaction
and hubris. Lions for Lambs is a stark
reminder that changing the course of history is
the right and responsibility of every single American,
and it challenges us to have the courage to do
so.

Robert Redford's Lions for Lambs
Opens Friday, November 9, 2007

Reviewed
by Frank J. Avella

Robert Redford’s
Lions for Lambs may be earnest and idealistic
and slightly simplistic in it’s presentation,
but it’s actually a film about ideas made
by a skilled filmmaker who appears to be very
concerned about the state of our country. The
lambasting the film is getting from the very media
outlets it calls to task is not surprising, but
it is disheartening.

Don’t be
fooled by the misguided critiques of oh-so-evolved
journalists who feel superior to the dialogue
Redford is trying to encourage. The reason the
film works so well, and it does, is that it refuses
to speak from a position of superiority. It will
not condescend. Redford asks some terribly important
questions. The pic also boasts a smart script,
deft direction and impressive performances.

The docu-drama
plot involves three interwoven sequences. On a
west coast university campus, Dr. Malley (Redford)
debates a promising but apathetic student (an
excellent Andrew Garfield) about his potential
as a citizen of the world and why he should apply
himself. In Washington, D.C., an ambitious Senator
(Tom Cruise) is about to reveal a major war story
to a seasoned and savvy TV journalist (Meryl Streep).
The third segment involves two of Malley’s
former students (Derek Luke & Michael Pena),
now on the battlefield in Afghanistan.

The film is filled
with talk, much talk. And how refreshing is that!
Yet the film-speak is never dull…and when
Streep and Cruise spar the results are riveting.
Streep delivers yet another perfect performance
and Cruise has his best role since Magnolia,
eight years ago.

Much of the power
of Lions for Lambs comes from the films
condemnation of the media’s handling of
the Iraq War at its outset. From the get go, most
outlets just bought what was being fed to them
from the White House hook, line and stinker (spelling
error intended). They rarely questioned why. They
simply reported the news according to the (then
very popular) Bush Administration, worrying more
about ratings and circulation than about doing
their jobs as journalists. So many of these print
and tele-media reps are now bashing the film…and
the critics are doing their best to kill it.

Don’t let
them.

Lions for Lambs
is an important film that deserves to find an
audience. For those of you who are tired of the
cold, strictly-cerebral techno-dazzle of certain
films that are being ridiculously lauded by the
majority of critics, Lions is the perfect
antidote. The film is a plea for action and if
it galvanizes a handful of audience members into
doing something as simple as actually voting in
the next election, well, then, it served a greater
purpose than most movies ever do.

Brian De Palma’s Redacted
Opens November 16, 2007

Reviewed
by Alejandra Serret

With movies like
Carrie, Scarface, The Untouchables,
Carlito’s Way, and Mission
Impossible on his resume, Brian De Palma
has successfully explored varying film genres.
In 1989, he directed the controversial film Casualties
of War, starring Michael J. Fox and Sean
Penn, based on the Vietnam War and how it affected
both civilians and soldiers.

Decades later he’s at it again with his
most recent work Redacted: same argument,
different war. With other politically charged
films currently circulating the cinemas (i.e.
Lions for Lambs and Rendition) Redacted
is most electrifying and twice as effective, not
only in message, but in delivery and vision. While
De Palma explores the devastating consequences
of the Iraq War, he does so through the examination
of news coverage. How is the news filtered? How
does it affect our perception of issues and events?
How is it shaped in order to create a desired
reaction?

To redact footage,
is to edit it for publishing. “Redacted
is often used to describe documents or images
from which sensitive information has been expunged,”
says De Palma. “The true story of our Iraq
War has been redacted from the Main Stream Corporate
Media. If we are going to cause such disorder
then we must face the horrendous images that are
the consequences of these actions.” In order
to convey redaction, De Palma centers the film
on a 14-year-old Iraqi girl’s brutal rape
and death and of her family’s slaughter
at the hands of US soldiers. He tells the same
incident through three different lenses: a US
soldier who videotapes everything in hopes of
going to film school, and the American and Iraqi
media.

The same event,
once redacted, becomes three different incidents,
seemingly unrelated. He jumps from one point of
view to another with a mastered fluidity that
avoids interruption. Instead, the constant movement
depicts deep contrasts, adding to the central
theme. De Palma allows the riveting documentary
style footage to speak for itself, holding back
when necessary. He shows the ripple effect this
incident has on so many people—the victim
and her family, the soldiers and their families.

De Palma
closes the film with photographs of the Iraq War:
images of wounded children being held by crying
parents, dead civilians lying in the streets amongst
rubble. He ends with silence and a montage of
horrifying shots. His redaction is a point of
view not yet given by the American mainstream
media and is one that is impossible to expel.

Gavin Hood'sRendition
Opens everywhere Friday, October 18, 2007

Reviewed by Alejandra
Serret

Rendition comes
at a time when charged films like Lions for
Lambs and The Kingdom raise questions
concerning America’s Foreign Policy and
the fractured political divide it creates. Directed
by Gavin Hood, most known for Tsotsi,
Rendition focuses on the American Government’s
use of extraordinary rendition, a practice that
began under the Clinton era and has become more
frequent since 9/11, “allowing for the abduction
of foreign nationals, deemed to be a threat to
national security for detention and interrogation
in secret overseas prisons.” Most interesting
about this film is that while it shows the policy’s
harmful, even immoral practices, it also argues
its multilayered complexities.

Screenwriter Kelley
Sane tells the story through three separate threads
that collide in the end. A terrorist act in northern
Egypt results in the deaths of innocent civilians,
including a CIA officer. Jake Gyllenhaal plays
CIA officer Douglas Freeman, who is assigned to
finding those responsible for the bombing. Yet
he begins to question his work when he witnesses
the brutal interrogation of Egyptian American
Anwar El-Ibrahimi (played by Omar Metwally), a
chemical engineer suspected of teaching the terrorists
more effective ways of making bombs. American
officers abduct Anwar upon arrival to Washington
DC from Cape Town and put him on a flight to Egypt.
He inevitably misses his connection to Chicago,
where his pregnant wife Isabella El-Ibrahimi (Reece
Witherspoon) and son await his arrival. Instead,
Egyptian officers torture Anwar while head of
the secret prison, Abasi Fawal (Igal Naor), questions
him and the suspicious calls he received from
supposed terrorists. Anwar’s fear, his inability
to break, strikes a chord with officer Douglas.
But Fawal has bigger problems. His daughter Fatima
(Zineb Oukach) gets involved with a steadfast
extremist endangering her family. Meanwhile Isabella
El-Ibrahimi fights to find her husband. Her connection
to an influential politician, Alan Smith (Peter
Sarsgaard), unearths the intricacies with which
the government works.

Hood plays with
time in telling the story, allowing the separate
parts to unfold effectively. The all-star cast,
delivered as expected, giving strong yet somewhat
predictable performances. Meryl Streep, Alan Arkin,
Peter Sarsgaard, Jake Gyllenhaal, Reece Witherspoon
and Omar Metwally produced solid work, yet were
somewhat overshadowed by the looming theme at
the film’s center. Rendition raises
important issues: How far is too far when dealing
with national security? How long will we let fear
dictate how we treat others? Fanaticism exists
everywhere. Rendition unravels deliberately
to address these points. The film’s main
character’s all believe in fighting for
what they believe in, which is ultimately what
tears them apart.

Kenneth Branagh’sSleuth
Opens October 12, 2007

Tagline: Two Men Fight Over a Woman You Never
See

Reviewed by Wendy
R. Williams

From the very opening
the mood is eerie. It is evening: we see a car
driving down a manicured driveway of an English
country estate. The car stops in front of a manor
house and a man, Milo Tindle (played by Jude Law)
walks to the door and rings for admittance. The
door is then answered by the other character in
this two man film - the proprietor of the house,
Andrew Wyke (played by Michael Caine). The die
is thus cast and the games begun.

The minute Milo
walks into the house his and our worlds are set
a kilter. The interior of the house is a cold
ultra modern high tech concrete and glass marvel,
its style totally at odds with its surroundings.
And as we quickly find out, Milo has not dropped
by for a cordial cocktail with a neighbor. Milo
has driven down from London to ask Andrew to divorce
his (Andrew’s ) wife, a woman who is also
Milo’s mistress.

We are then treated
to three acts of a very treacherous game. Two
men fight over the affections of one woman and
then (as men do), they fight for power and domination.
And after each campaign in the “game,”
the power shifts and the players go to their psychic
corners to retrench, reshuffle their wits and
then resume the battle to its deadly end.

Michael Caine had
starred in Sleuth before; in 1972 he
played Milo (with Laurence Olivier as Andrew)
with a screenplay written by Anthony Shaffer,
based on Anthony Shaffer’s play of the same
name.

Fast forward to a couple of years ago: Jude Law
was looking for a film to produce and he settled
on Sleuth; he then took a copy of the
play script to renowned British playwright Harold
Pinter (winner of the 2005 Nobel Prize for Literature)
and asked Pinter if he would write the screenplay.
Law then asked Kenneth Branagh to direct, and
both Pinter and Branagh, hearing that the other
was interested, decided to sign on. So in addition
to a physical fight, Milo and Andrew have Pinter’s
pithy script to lob at each other as they perform
their death dance.

The film is stylish
and fun. Film lovers should see this version of
Sleuth just to watch Caine and Law, two
fine actors at the top of their game. Branagh
did a fine job directing (he did have wonderful
actors and incredible script). And the setting
(the interior of the house) is an architectural
wonder that absolutely has to be seen on a big
screen.

Melina Kaneva’s
Total Denial tells the story of a historic
lawsuit in the United States court system. Fifteen
Burmese villagers sued UNOCAL (now Chevron) for
their complicity in human rights violations in
Burma. Unocal held a minority stake in a joint
venture with the French oil company TOTAL to build
a pipeline across Burma. But in doing so, they
enlisted the help of the corrupt (and unelected)
Burmese military government to maintain security.
And in maintaining security, the Burmese military
regime committed horrific human rights abuses.

Here is a quote from the press release for the
film: “Total Denial cogently documents
a major factor behind the Burmese military’s
murderous crackdown. In 1992, two Western oil
companies—the French TOTAL and the multi-national
UNOCAL—embarked on a joint venture with
the Burmese government to build a massive pipeline.
For the past fifteen years, the Burmese army has
acted as a security agency for the corporations,
forcing local impoverished populations into lifelong
slave labor to build the pipeline. Scorched villages,
rape, torture and murder are routinely used to
intimidate the people into submission to provide
a cheap workforce; the hundreds of thousands have
attempted to flee are barely surviving in the
jungles and refugee camps.”

The film follows Burmese human rights activist
Ka Hsaw Wa as he travels incognito through the
jungles of Burma, talking to the villagers. It
also shows him at home with his Western lawyer
wife (Katie Redford) and two adorable children.
And it is through this marriage between a native
Burmese human rights activist and a western (US
citizen) lawyer wife (they met when she was a
human rights activist in a refugee camp in Thailand)
that the idea of suing in the United States Court
system was born. These two activists were founders
of EarthRights
International and they relentlessly pressed
their case in the US Courts, resulting in a multi
million dollar settlement in favor of the Burmese
villager plaintiffs.

The film tells a powerful story but it also is
a compelling reminder that one person can make
a huge difference by having the courage to tell
“truth to power”: Ka Hsaw Wa by never
giving up his belief in justice and his love for
his country; Katie Redford by traveling to Thailand
to work with the Burmese refugees and then deciding
to sue the oil company; and filmmaker Milena Kaneva
for having the courage to travel to Burma and
Thailand to film and tell this story.

There will be several
demonstrations next week against the Burmese regime,
including a march to Cinema Village on Saturday,
October 27, 2007.

Rose, a Ugandan
girl of the Acholi Tribe stares into the camera.
She has glossy skin, child-like cheeks, and strong
features. The camera follows her as she walks,
barefoot, along the unpaved road to a hut, where
she lives with her aunt and young cousins. Her
frayed school uniform fits snugly to her slender
thirteen-year- old-body. She cooks, bathes the
babies and washes the clothes. Like thousands
of other children residing in Patongo, a displaced
persons camp in Northern Uganda, Rose has survived
a distinct misery particular to this part of the
nation, ravaged for more than twenty years by
civil war.

Shine Global, a
production company founded by Albie Hecht and
Susan MacLaury as a way to fund documentaries
intended to “raise awareness of the abuse
and exploitation of children” produced War
Dance. While tragedy touches each story told
in the film, the stronger theme is of hope and
resilience. Filmmakers Andrea and Sean Fine focus
War Dance on three specific children—Nancy,
Dominic, and Rose—as they prepare for the
National Music Competition held in Kampala each
year, attended by contestants from 20,000 schools.
Reaching the competition gives the children a
sense of accomplishment and pride. War Dance
gives insight into their lives as they practice
and the sacrifices they make in order to make
the dangerous trip to the capital city.

As viewers, we
are able to make the journey with them. We learn
of their desire to prove themselves, we learn
of their haunting past and we see their strength.
They compete in eight categories—their strongest
being in traditional dance and music composition.
Prior to the competition Rose tells of her joy,
“I’m excited to see what peace looks
like.” Sean and Andrea Fine divulge each
child’s story slowly, allowing viewers to
become invested in learning and hearing more.
The Fine’s are careful to take their time—mixing
some of the grislier moments with happy ones.
We get to know of Dominic’s intense love
of the xylophone and of his desire to become the
greatest player in Uganda, while also hearing
of his abduction by rebel troops and the weeks
spent as a child soldier, “I have not yet
had the courage to tell the truth. God would not
be happy with me.” When they arrive in Kampala
the anticipation is palpable. While their success
is expected it still leaves goose bumps.

As is the
case with successful documentaries, it is clear
that Nancy, Rose and Dominic trusted Andrea and
Sean Fine. They allowed them—and us—a
glimpse of their pain but also of their ability
to heal. War Dance is a beautifully filmed,
lyrically told documentary of life through the
eyes of incredible children. It is a reminder,
not only of the strength of a child’s spirit,
but of the power of film, music, and dance.

Goran Dukic'sWristcuters
Opens Friday, October 19, 2007

Reviewed
by Corey Ann Haydu

Wristcutters
is a new indie flick that fits in well with
this season’s influx of TV pilots and pop
culture trends—the undead, and people living
in alternate universes. Realism and science fiction
have been mixing together with wildly successful
results since the onset of Buffy the Vampire
Slayer. Ever since the success of Lost,
though, the genre has really taken off, culminating
this year with a frenzy of shows that put real
people in unreal situations. Wristcutters
is a film that is taking advantage of the easy
success by making a decent movie inspired by a
fantastic story.

The alternate
universe of Wristcutters is a type of
purgatory where everyone who has killed themselves
go to live. This hell is exactly like life on
earth, but a little worse. Crappy jobs, cramped
dirty apartments and unpalatable landscapes all
add to the depression, and this circumstance appears
to be the punishment for offing yourself. The
lead character, Zia (Almost Famous’
Patrick Fugit) has killed himself after breaking
up with the love of his life. He enters suicide
hell and quickly learns his ex-girlfriend has
also killed herself. He decides to go look for
her in the hopes of starting a new life after
death with his love. This journey turns into a
quirky road trip with two new friends, smarmy
Eugene (Shea Whigam) and beautiful Mikal (Shannyn
Sossaman). Mikal and Zia fall for each other and
their struggle to be together becomes the real
journey of the film.

The film
is based on a short story that I would imagine
is genius. The idea behind the film is quirky,
unique and captivating. The film itself, however,
falls short. It is appealing without ever really
charming or engaging the audience. It is smart
without ever being fun, and it is full of good
acting with the exception of its lackluster lead.
Fugit’s performance in Almost Famous
was so inspired, that is it difficult to understand
why he struggles to hold the audience’s
attention in this movie. He holds his own, but
never shines, and Whigam and Sossaman are so strong
they steal the film from him. The characters are
likeable and it is easy to root for the unlikely
romance in an even more unlikely setting. But
something is off, and it is more than just the
dismal landscape, the depressing setting. The
atmosphere is perhaps the biggest character in
the piece and provides an unsettling, uncomfortable,
morose world. Ultimately the loveliness of the
characters and the quirky ideas are not able to
usurp that depressing world and the film, like
all of its characters, lacks life.